Arikewusola Abdul Awal hails from Shaki, Oyo state. His poems have appeared on ilamagazine.net, williwashpress.com. Teen Lit journals, and elsewhere.
Paper Bird
(To Father)
Tell me,
Is this the beginning of another end?
Every morning I see your bloodshot eyes
aiming at the lekeleke birds in the sky.
What–in them–could have trussed you:
The immaculate garbs or –perhaps– where to, were they flocking?
The Sybil augured for us: I was born for escapades.
I had buried with mother, some litanies–
which cracked her tomb open &
sprouted as white tulips with cuppy buds,
buds that serve mother some leban from the moon.
I melt my soul into ink, engraved my
body into a paper bird &
composed myself in the rhythm of your dreams.
Tell me,
Why was I unfledged by the soft
whistling flute of the zephyr,
Why were my wings claiming the sky
through a sigh from the cyclone?
The lekelekes perched on a divine sea,
turned ripples to rosaries & I did.
murmured some rubicund verses & I did.
burned some water in their hearts of passion
& I did.
Flawlessly flapped their wings & flew away;
I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Tell me,
How scorching can a longing be,
for a paper bird that’s pecked its dream
to find its wings drenched in the stream?
Haven’t I been vaticinated:
I won’t get lost & I won’t die?
Here I lie burning with longing,
Hoping the tempest would
piggyback me home.
Tell me,
Is this the end of another beginning?
(First published in World Voice Magazine (Issue 26)
Contributor’s Bio
Arikewusola Abdul Awal hails from Shaki, Oyo state. His poems have appeared on ilamagazine.net, williwashpress.com. Teen Lit journals, Thirty Shades of Roses Anthology, and elsewhere. He reads at his pleasure time.
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